My uncle kept his old military uniform in a plastic bag in the back of the closet. We all knew it was there, but nobody really touched it. He was not the kind of veteran who told stories unless you asked the right way, and even then he would usually change the subject.
He loved America, but not in a loud way. He voted, paid his bills, took his hat off when the anthem played, and got irritated when people treated freedom like it was just something that happened by itself.
California was home to him for most of his life. He had his complaints, believe me. Taxes, traffic, politics, all of it. But he never left. He said a place can drive you crazy and still be the place you belong.
This hex is for him, for the years he served, and for the quiet kind of patriotism that does not need applause.